Page 1 of Her Werewolf Lover

Prologue

Goodbye, asshat!

Samantha listened to the message and let out a squeal of triumph.

Was that it? Could it truly be over?

The clipped New York accent sounded from that insipid little rectangular piece of hell-spawned technology called a smartphone, and suddenly, it was like a choir of angels was singing to her.

Like her own little private concert.

“Ms. Jones the divorce is finalized. You are now the ex-wife of Gary Birkemeyer. As per your agreement, you have retained the title and deed to the New Jersey residence. Along with the remainder of all monies made during your modeling career that you brought into your marriage, including those funds earned during the firstthree years you were married while you were still employed. The total comes to $393,850 and sixty-two cents. Mr. Birkemeyer’s attorney deducted certain fees that he insisted were consistent with your lifestyle. Housing, food, medical and the like. There is about $20,000 left.”

She paused it, breathed in, then allowed the message to continue playing.

“Ms. Jones, I sincerely urge you to reconsider the matter of alimony. You were married to Mr. Birkemeyer for eight years and are entitled to much more than what you have settled for. His estate is worth upwards of fifty-million dollars. If you want to move forward with this, please call me.I am sending you a copy of all the final paperwork to your new permanent residence, 24 Winding Willow Way, Maccon City, New Jersey. Again, call me if you change your mind.”

“EEEEEEEEK!” she screeched.

Her attorney droned on and on, but all Sam had heard was the first sentence. Her divorce was final. It was the most important sentence in that whole spiel.

Sam was free.

Tears of happiness pricked her eyes, and Samantha expelled a deep, long breath before wiping them.

The former prom queen, magazine model,infamous June plus sized, calendar girl, and ex-trophy wife was finally free.

She stared in quiet awe at the cell phone in her hand and replayed the message.

Once.

Twice.

Seven times.

That was how long it took for her to firmly believe it was true.

When her phone rang after eight o’clock that night, she took her time answering it. Samantha figured her ex-husband was calling to give her even more grief, and she was so not in the mood.

Gary was nothing if not predictable that way.She’d promised herself she would no longer cower for that man.

And she didn’t have to. Not anymore. It was her choice to speak to him or not.

Really, she simply could not handle another taunting phone call or phony delay in the proceedings. She refused to feed his perverse appetite for torturing her.

Not now. Not ever,

The movers had just finished delivering the rest of her things, and it dawned on her she was no longer bound to him. Sure, it might seem sad thather whole life had fit into the back of a smallish truck.

But all things considered, that was fine with her.

She was looking forward to building her life anew.

Right now. Right here.

Which was why she absolutely hated the idea of Gary invading her space.

It might be his money that first bought it, and the ugly-ass furniture filling it, but now it was hers. Not theirs. Just hers.